


Chosen by Avalon

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: OQ Happy Ending Week 2018 [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Affalon | Avalon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Camelot, Destiny, Established Relationship, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Mild Language, OQ Happy Ending Week, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15249300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: "Pick an apple.  Ease your hunger and continue to slake your thirst," he says, and she easily complies.  As she takes a bite of the heavy, ripe fruit, sweetly tart juices exploding on her tongue, he continues, "And then I will explain how Avalon has chosen you, Regina, particularly your potential role as Lady of the Lake, as well as your soulmate's as my successor to the role of the Merlin."





	Chosen by Avalon

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 6-10 July 2018 [for the prologue only]  
> Word Count: TBD  
> Written for: Outlaw Queen Happy Ending Week  
> Prompt: Day 2 - Stuck in Missing Year/Camelot Happy Ending  
> Summary: "Pick an apple. Ease your hunger and continue to slake your thirst," he says, and she easily complies. As she takes a bite of the heavy, ripe fruit, sweetly tart juices exploding on her tongue, he continues, "And then I will explain how Avalon has chosen you, Regina, particularly your potential role as Lady of the Lake, as well as your soulmate's as my successor to the role of the Merlin."  
> Spoilers: Canon divergent AU jinking off after Robin was stabbed during the Camelot/Dark Swan storyline of Season 5A. Everything we know about the characters is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Yeah, okay, so there is a story behind this fic. Down in Ashland, Oregon, is the Goddess Temple of Ashland, located on the grounds of Jackson Wellsprings Spa. It is tied to the British Isles and Avalon. When I first visited the temple grounds this past May, I was hit with a very strong pull and message from the Morrigan [and a very persistent robin, who even dropped a couple of her down feathers for me] to return to the Avalonian roots of my spirituality, particularly when I stepped foot on Apple Island, which is a small island surrounded by a stream moat and only accessible via two small wooden bridges. I returned to the temple grounds this past week on two separate occasions and had more communion with the robins and my personal deities, including the Morrigan. On the second trip, which was after obtaining my tattoo, I was sitting on the island and completed five handwritten pages of the beginning of this fic. There will be more, oh so much more, and it will involve a lot of the research involved in my personal spirituality, as well as a bit of a fusion of _Once Upon a Time_ 's backstory with the _Mists of Avalon_ series of books. Trust me when I say that it will be quite a journey for Regina and Robin, and not all of the Camelot/Dark Swan arc will be used here. And for those who are curious, the bulk of this prologue was written while listening to Styx's _Paradise Theatre_ album. They're still Robin's favorite band apparently.
> 
> Dedication: My muses, as usual…
> 
> Beta: Not beta'd, as I don't have a regular OQ/DOQ beta yet. But if you see anything that needs correcting, proper concrit goes a long way toward getting it fixed.

It's stifling. Too many sounds, too many people crowding in on her, trying to suffocate her in the truths of her past and the lies of her present.

And so she runs.

Runs from the council chambers. Runs from that great Round Table of legend and history. Runs from the echoed calls of her name in confusion and fear and condemnation.

The shuffle-pat of her slippers on the stone floors echoes around her, the shush-ush of her heavy velvet gown singing in counterpoint as her heart's rapid thu-dumps keep her on a pace that she cannot hope to maintain long enough to get far enough away from the weight of her expectations here.

For a moment, it feels as though they all follow after her, an army commanded by King Arthur himself to hunt her down and drag her back, dead or alive. It calls forth memories of her mother, of being trapped and isolated by magic that she despises and fears with every fiber of her being.

Her pounding heart lodges firmly in her throat, choking off the little oxygen getting to her starved lungs in pants and gurgling gasps. The pain in her chest matches the stitch in her side, until her body sings in agony. She wants to stop, needs to rest and breathe, but she knows that is certain death.

And so she keeps running.

Stone walls and floors filled with gloomy shadows soon give way to the wooden beams of the drawbridge and the blinding light of the sun.

And still she keeps running.

She stumbles a bit as her slippers catch against the grass in an attempt for purchase. Her arms pinwheel briefly as she rights herself and keeps going. It feels like an eternity before she enters the dappled shade of the forest surrounding Camelot. Her lungs burn with the need to slow down, but she's still too close to the castle and the people within.

And still she runs.

Soon enough, the sounds of the forest creep in to soothe her mind and heart. The soft whisper of the breeze through the trees. The sweet rise and fall of birdsong. The occasional high-pitched cries of the birds of prey coasting on the thermals above the treetops. The rustling of small animals in the undergrowth. The tinkling murmur of nearby running water.

It is the latter that finally gives her pause in her pell-mell egression from Camelot. The burn in her lungs becomes too much to ignore.

 _Just a moment_ , she reasons with herself. Just enough to slake her thirst and she can continue to… to wherever it is that her feet are leading her.

A few steps more and the trees part onto a small glade ringed by a babbling brook. It is no more than six feet wide and has a lovely little set of rapids cascading before her. The island is small, no larger than her master suite back in Storybrooke. It is dominated on one side by a large, stately apple tree, though there are smaller trees and willow saplings as well. The sight of both apple blossoms and apples in various sizes and ripenesses both intrigues and comforts her. The urge to get to that island, to taste that fruit, is overwhelming.

But slaking the thirst burning hot in lungs and throat is her first priority. She drops to her knees at a low spot on the bank. Her legs tremble, heart still trip hammering in her chest, but the cool air as her skirt billows and settles around her is a welcomed reprieve. For a brief handful of seconds, she considers using magic to shift into a simple sundress or even shorts. But it's the wrong attire for Camelot, and she's already drawn far too much attention to herself here. Instead she only expends enough energy to pull her hair up into a bun and off her neck.

The change in temperature is almost palpably instantaneous. A sigh escapes her lips as a single tear slides down her cheek to pool in the corner of her mouth. Emotions begin to swirl again, causing her gut to cramp violently enough that she tenses for the inevitable heaving of bile and stomach contents. When it doesn't come, she blows out a sigh and leans over to scoop water into her hands. The first time is to cool the heat of her skin. The second goes great lengths to slake her thirst, and she continues to greedily and sloppily swallow as much water as she can.

The cramping of her stomach should force her to slow down, but she foolishly pays it no heed. Within minutes of her first mouthful, all of the water makes a reappearance in the grass to her right, along with the meager contents of her stomach. Some even spatters down to stain the deep red velvet of her dress. Time has no meaning as her body heaves and purges, salty tears mingling with the acrid taste of bile in her mouth.

When the worst of the spasms finally ease, her body trembles and she sways dangerously before pitching to the grass, landing just clear of the mess of her sick, eyes rolling back in her head as darkness steals her consciousness.

*****

She has no idea how much time passes before reality angrily intrudes on the blissful nothingness in which she's been floating. She whimpers softly and scrunches her eyes more tightly shut, unwilling to return from the peaceful haze.

"Regina."

That voice sounds vaguely familiar, comforting. For a few seconds, she'll swear it's her father and tears fill her eyes. What she wouldn't give to have more time with him, to be able to apologize for the weakness that killed him. But the only way she can be with him is if she…

"Regina."

"Daddy?" Her voice sounds raw to her own ears, and she winces at the pain in her throat. Just how much bile did she bring up before she passed out?

"No, Regina, I'm sorry, but he's not here. Open your eyes and you'll understand."

She whimpers again and shakes her head. The gentle touch of lightly callused fingers on her temples sends a wash of comfort through her. "Robin?" It has to be him; no one else would touch her so intimately without her permission.

"No, but he's coming. Open your eyes, Regina."

She takes a deep breath and slowly opens her eyes, instantly shutting them again against the glare of the sun around her. The pain is like an ice pick to her skull. "Too bright."

Those fingers stroke along her temples again. One hand moves down to cradle the back of her head as the other moves from one temple across her forehead to the other temple and back to cover forehead and eyes. A soft sound begins to fill the air around her. There are words, but she has no idea what they are or the language being used. All she can say with any certainty is that she begins to feel better in infinitesimal increments. The murmuring continues for a moment or two and she feels like drifting back into the comfort of oblivion.

"Try to open your eyes again, Regina." When she shakes her head, he chuckles softly. "I promise it won't be as bright this time."

She takes a chance on trusting him and carefully lets her eyelids part, tensing against the light she expects. The pleasant realization of a much more muted sunlight surrounding her is a relief. And then she notices the man kneeling next to her. His skin is smooth and a pleasing shade of mocha that reminds her of Sidney Glass for some reason. Her eyes skitter up to his face to verify that it's _not_ Sidney, letting her relax again. He's young, definitely younger than she is, carrying an air of serenity that she jealously covets. His eyes are kind, a deep brown that she feels drawn to fall into, and his gentle smile puts her further at ease.

"There you are," he says, and she feels as if he can see directly into her soul. "If you're ready, you can sit up now. If not, you can still rest where you are."

"Wh-Where am I? Who are you?" She blushes hotly the second the latter question leaves her lips, and pushes to sit up. The reminder of her mother's rules of etiquette rumble in her head. "I'm sorry, I--"

"It's all right. You've had a rough time of it lately, haven't you?" When she nods, he smiles and offers her a small metal cup. "Here. Drink this slowly. It'll help settle your stomach."

She takes the cup and sips at it. The water is cool as it fills her mouth and slides down her dry, sore throat. Her stomach cramps initially, forcing her to bite her bottom lip in trepidation. When nothing happens, she attempts another small sip with the same results, then relaxes and looks to the young man again.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you." She tilts her head to the side a bit. "How do you know my name? Have we met before?"

"We have indeed met, but you were too young to remember it."

Too young? How can that be possible? He looks and sounds younger than she is. He chuckles softly as if reading her mind.

"I am older than I appear. In fact, I'm older than your Dark One. The one in the coma, not the one you've come here to save."

Her eyebrows lift into her hairline at his words. "Okay, who the hell are you? How do you know so much about me and the people I associate with?"

He simply smiles that enigmatic, serene smile and gestures to the cup again. Only when she takes another sip does he answer her. "Perhaps it's best if I introduce myself before answering your questions. I am Merlin. I believe you've been looking for me, yes?"

"M-Merlin? _The_ Merlin?" She narrows her eyes as she studies his face, looking for signs of deceit. "Arthur said you've been trapped in that damned tree for decades. How are you here now?"

"I have been many places and in many times, sometimes simultaneously." He offers a nonchalant shrug. "It's all a part of being the Merlin, I suppose."

"You use your name as an honorific?" She can't even bother to hide the incredulity from her voice.

He laughs softly. "The honorific was in place before I was born. My mother somehow felt that the title was a fitting name for her bastard-born son. Little did she know that said son was born to take on the role that goes with the honorific. And now, it is time for me to find and appoint my replacement."

"Replacement? But you're immortal, are you not?"

"Yes and no. Like your dragon friend, Maleficent, I am still mortal. I just have lived long enough for normally mortal beings to consider me immortal. I have lived forward to a ripe old age and then regressed backward again, or so the legends say." He winks then, and she can't help but giggle softly in response. "But I am in need of a replacement at some point. I have a good idea of who it will be, if they choose to accept their fate. You, too, have a fate that you must learn of, Regina."

"Me? I don't understand." Her face hardens at the thought of yet another facet of Fate ruining her life. "At first, my fate was to be the Evil Queen. That's what I was led to believe my entire life. And then my fate was to be with my soulmate. I despise that I apparently have no choices in my life, that it all follows some damned preordained script. So if you have something similar, don't be surprised by my hostility right now."

"You have a choice in this part of your fate, Regina. I can guarantee that. There are very few people still alive that would even have the slightest inkling of this new path in your life's journey. They likely think it a specious rumor, but they'd be wrong." He pauses and looks around, gesturing with a hand. "Do you know where you are?"

She frowns, looking around again at the same spot by the brook where she'd fainted. "The forest surrounding Camelot. Specifically sitting next to a small island glade surrounded by a brook and bearing an apple tree that somehow produces blossoms and edible fruit at the same time."

"Yes and no. Yes, you're still within the general boundaries of Camelot's forest, but specifically you are in a place that is normally only found by those who know what markers to seek out. In your panicked exodus from the castle, your feet have brought you to one of the entrances to Avalon."

"Avalon?" Her brow furrows in confusion. "But we're nowhere near the Tor or the lake."

"There are multiple entrances to Avalon. This particular one is known only to the highest echelon among Avalon's priests and priestesses."

"I don't understand."

Before she can say anything more, Merlin stands and offers her a hand. Without thought, she accepts the help up, cup still clutched tightly in her other hand. He begins to guide her a little further south from where they have been sitting, and she notices a small wooden bridge hidden among the reeds.

"If you so choose, you can begin the journey to enter Avalon proper by stepping foot on that bridge. It would be better if you wade the stream for purification, but the water you've been drinking is from the stream and already begun the process of that purification work. I will follow you across the bridge, and guide you through the next steps of purification and preparation, and then you will learn of the choice you have yet to make. Once you understand your choice, you will be able to help your soulmate learn of his own choice to make."

She licks her lips and stares at the bridge, then the magnificent apple tree that had called to her from the moment she first saw it. "How is Robin involved in this? What is my fate?"

"Step onto Apple Island and I will explain everything, I swear it. You just need to trust me, Regina."

She takes another sip of the water, a second, then drains the cup completely. She tenses for spasms that never come. Taking that as enough of a sign that she can trust Merlin, she takes a deep breath and strides across the small bridge. She can see the fish and tadpoles swimming in the water, suddenly hears the sweet song of several robins. The irony isn't lost on her. She hesitates briefly before stepping off the wooden bridge onto the lush grass. The second her slippered foot sinks into the grass, a full body shudder of magic oozes down her spine, and she spins in a small circle to face Merlin, who steps off the bridge with a smile.

"This is-- What was that magic I just felt?"

"The Goddess welcomes you to Apple Island and eventually to Avalon itself. Hold out your hand." When she does as commanded, one of the robins alights on the webbing between thumb and forefinger. "The robins welcome you to their nesting grounds. Feel free to pick an apple to eat, as befits a priestess of Avalon."

"A priestess of Avalon? _Me?_ You must be mistaken. I am far too damaged for that."

"No one is perfect and undamaged, Regina. How you deal with the trials laid out before you and their aftermath determines far more about you than you think. You were born to the life you led in order to teach you the lessons necessary to become not only _a_ priestess of Avalon, but _the_ priestess of Avalon, the Lady of the Lake herself."

A bark of startled laughter erupts from her lips at his words, sending the robin flying up into the branches of the apple tree to chitter angrily at her. "I'm sorry, but you must have me mistaken for someone else. I can't possibly take on that role. I don't even follow the same magical thinking--"

"You can learn the specifics of Avalonian magic, even as you already possess it. You bear within you magic both light and dark. You know how to hold the balance of life and death and make the proper choices. Beyond that, you will be taught whatever else you need to know." He smiles and gestures to the tree again. "Pick an apple. Ease your hunger and continue to slake your thirst," he says, and she easily complies. As she takes a bite of the heavy, ripe fruit, sweetly tart juices exploding on her tongue, he continues, "And then I will explain how Avalon has chosen you, Regina, particularly your potential role as Lady of the Lake, as well as your soulmate's as my successor to the role of the Merlin."

The world spins around her at his words, and she falls to the ground and feels darkness surround her again. Her last thought before the darkness swallows her whole is how badly she can already feel herself wanting to accept this role offered to her.

*****

When she awakens again, she finds herself curled up in bed with Robin, the only light in the room that of the moon several days past full. She doesn't remember returning home from her strange visit with Merlin, nor does she even remember the rest of their conversation. Perhaps it was all just some dream borne of exhaustion and anxiety, after all. What other explanation could there be?

She sits up carefully, unwilling to wake Robin from his needed rest, particularly after that whole fiasco with the wound that was meant for her. She reaches for his hand, settling it against her heart, taking comfort in the solid warmth he offers her.

Movement at the window startles her and she turns to find a robin sitting on the sill, an apple blossom in its beak. Tears fill her eyes as she realizes that it was no dream. "Thank you," she whispers to the robin, watching as it bobs its head and drops the blossom on the sill before taking off again. The scent of apples in sunshine suddenly surrounds her, and her longing to return to that safety she'd felt is overwhelming. She needs to find a way back to Apple Island as soon as possible, preferably with her soulmate at her side. She has questions, and she knows he will, too, just as she knows that Merlin is the only one who can truly answer them.

Decision to return made, she settles against Robin's warmth again, ear pressed over his chest. The slow, steady thub-dub of his heartbeat easily lulls her back into sleep filled with dreams of Merlin and the mysterious Apple Island.


End file.
